Scott shook the hand Rastol extended and said something noncommittal. Most Martians looked almost alike to Earth's eyes, except for their sex differences, but Rastol was distinctive. He was corpulent, a thing most Martians were not, and he was hairless, which also was unusual. His skin was whiter than that of most of his planetmen, and he had no neck to speak of. If Scott had been a caricaturist, he'd have drawn Rastol as an egg. Ylia had left the room. She came back now with a tray, and served drinks. Scott took one of the small pottery cups and told himself he mustn't drink more than two of them. They contained a syrupy blue liquid with the kick of a rocket-exhaust. Kring raised his cup. "To the Republic," he said. They all sipped their drinks. "I've asked you here," Kring said, "for a purpose. I should not have chosen Landing Day if it had not been important. Some of you have very generously broken other engagements or left your work--" he bowed to Scott--"to be here." Rastol spoke in a low, resonant voice. "It is an honor to be asked to your home, Mr. Kring." The "mister" was something Earthmen had brought. Mars, before the Rockheads set up their semi-feudal system, had had no such term of address. Kring bowed again. "I am especially happy that you were able to come, Mr. Rastol, because what I have to say should be of particular interest to you." He turned to Toby Black. "You, Mr. Black, are interested in construction, of course, and Mr. Warren's news service has an interest in something similar--reconstruction. So we are well met." Scott didn't know what this preamble was leading to, but he wished Kring would get on with it. He did. "Mr. Warren," Kring went on, "may also have a news story of some value. You see, before Mr. Rastol leaves this room tonight, he will have announced that he cannot accept the post of minister of commerce in the Murain government." Rastol didn't move, except for a narrowing of his eyes. Then he said, carefully: "Indeed?" Kring smiled a little. "Yes," he said. "I think Mr. Rastol will find that his private affairs are of such a demanding nature that he will be forced regretfully to decline the honor tendered by President Murain." Rastol said evenly: "I hesitate to differ with my gracious host, but it would seem to me that an individual might be considered to know his own affairs better than another." "I am sure," said Kring, "that no one knows your affairs better than you, Mr. Rastol." Scott looked at Toby Black, who had leaned forward in his chair as if trying to see the significance of it all. Scott knew that Toby knew as much about Rastol as anyone, and probably more. Toby was one of half a dozen men who were permitted to ride the private elevator to the private office of the director-general of World Government. Rastol looked at a timepiece on the wall and rose from his chair. "I am afraid I must say good night. I had hoped to be better company, but I have just remembered an appointment."